Chapter 208

Evelyn didn't care about Henry Blackwood's opinion. The only person whose belief mattered to her was Alexander's.

Her shimmering eyes searched the icy man's face. "You believe me, don't you, Alexander?"

Her voice was feather-soft as she reached for Alexander's hands, desperate for his trust.

Instead, she received only a skeptical sideways glance that cut through her like winter wind. Without uttering a word, he turned and walked away.

"Alexander! Alexander—"

Tears spilled freely down Victoria's cheeks as she watched his retreating form.

Eleanor Kingsley moved to comfort her. "There, there, Victoria. Alexander is intelligent. He won't be fooled by such obvious lies!"

Victoria nodded, dabbing at her eyes. "I'll go talk to him."

"Victoria." Eleanor sighed mournfully before shooting Evelyn a venomous glare.

Meeting Eleanor's hostile stare, Evelyn merely smiled and approached without hesitation. "If I recall correctly, you were quite certain about Evelyn's shameless nature, weren't you, Mrs. Kingsley? Yet the truth reveals your precious daughter fits that description far better."

"How dare— I'll sue you for slander, Vivian Prescott!"

"Shouldn't Evelyn be the one filing lawsuits? Your daughter hired someone to destroy her reputation and frame her for kidnapping."

"You—"

Evelyn found it pointless to continue watching Eleanor defend Victoria.

The evidence was clear, yet Eleanor still chose to believe and protect her daughter.

People claimed to be rational, but emotions were inherently selfish—so selfish they could distort reality itself.

A bitter smile touched Evelyn's lips as she turned away, champagne flute in hand.

Night had fallen, the warm summer breeze caressing Evelyn's cheeks.

Wandering through the corridors, her gaze landed on a painfully familiar silhouette leaning against the balcony railing.

Alexander stood tall against the glass barrier, a wine glass dangling from his fingers. A half-empty bottle sat on the side table.

He raised the glass silently, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed the crimson liquid.

Another night breeze ruffled his chestnut hair.

In the darkness, Evelyn observed how melancholy seemed etched into his downturned eyes and furrowed brows.

'Drowning your regrets, Alexander?'

'Or perhaps finally seeing the truth?'

A quiet chuckle escaped Evelyn's lips.

Alexander's gaze lifted abruptly, as if he'd heard the sharp click of her heels.

"Drinking away your sorrows, Mr. Blackwood? Did tonight's revelations ruin your evening?" Evelyn asked casually, stepping closer. "You look like you could use company. Shall I join you?"

She swirled her champagne playfully, moving to clink glasses—only for Alexander to seize her wrist before contact.

She met his alcohol-glazed yet piercing stare with curiosity.

"Mr. Blackwood?"

"It's you." His voice was rough. "Evelyn."